The Line Between You And I

Max

That final push was the one thing that told me to go on. It was almost like starting a race. One moment I was still the next, I was flowing through the woods faster than I ever thought my legs could carry me. This went on for a few, what felt like a long, five minutes. Once I finally came to a stop, I felt a struggle to even hold my own weight. Before I could even catch my breath back, I snapped my head back around to check that the coast was clear of her dad. I was safe. Now I knew that the coast was safe I let in a deep breath letting everything finally come back to me. After a good few minutes, I felt my eyes begin to water. The warm salty water glided down my face one after the other, each chasing one another to get to the bottom. I was hurt. I was hurting for her dad whom I was like a bug against. I was hurting for Eliza, I mean having to live with such a man every day. But most of all... Well, I was hurting for my mum in whom hadn't seen me for a good few days. With that last daunting thought bubble above my head, I got my shit together and started to run home.

Finally, I rocked up to the place I call home, and by the time I got there, it was already morning. That was from the big walk from London to Manchester in just one night. Even though my feet were now scraping the ground with every step, and my arms were loosely swaying back and forth, I still felt my body go warm as I looked over the farm. I used to come out to look at the farm in the early morning with my dad until he passed. Everything looked so peaceful and calm almost as if life's deadly touch hadn't griped a hold of it yet. As I trudged my way to the door, the same sentence kept flying through my head. What was I going to say to her? As I opened the door and walked through to our living room, I saw her stop dead in her tracks. She looked at me almost like a deer in lights before proceeding to shout my name from the top of her lungs."MAX BIANCHI! EXPLAIN YOURSELF NOW!"

I spent ages trying to explain myself to my mum that night but not one word of mine actually went to her head. All she did was tell me that I had to work on the farm a few more hours in the morning and get up really early and go to bed early too. Little did she know, every night she would lock my door and hide the key and I would just simply jump off our old window sills. It wasn't the hardest thing on earth, because we didn't have much of an actual window but every night I would still risk going there and coming back just for her...

1 Month Later...

It's been a month and day in and day out I've been doing the same thing. Sneaking out to go see Eliza. The only problem was that for the last month, her room had been silent. The light, which would normally bring a warm glow into the room, was never lit. The curtains, which would normally be pulled open tight in the morning and left to sway in the evening, were never let loose. The bookcase, which would normally have books missing from every row, was growing a thick layer of dust. Finally, the thing that really hurt deep down. The bed, which would normally be so neatly folded in the day and crumpled in every corner at night, was now forever untouched. Everything was exactly how she had left it. Even nobody in her household could even be bothered enough to go clean the place up. The only problem I now faced was the questions running around my head all at a million miles per hour. There was one dreaded question that kept creeping its way into my head was... "What had her dad done?" That was my only logical answer. I knew that she was gone or hurt or something like that. Some days, it was too dark to see up to Eliza's room but I could always tell by the flowers in the front garden. When I first ever met her, she explained her hobbies and one of them was making bouquets of flowers from her garden. She used to pick the flowers so new ones could grow but now; the roses had started to grow more thorns to protect their beauty, the hydrangeas had formed an army and invaded the path to make more room for themselves, the bleeding hearts never actually opened enough to bleed and finally the lotus flowers perched on the pond didn't have enough care and love to open towards the sun.

"Where could such a beautiful soul of gone?" Was my final question as I crawled into my shallow bed for the night.

The things I'd do to feel some form of remorse...